This Day

When you’re snuggled up in a cozy chair at your mom’s house, it’s difficult to find things to complain about. When you take into consideration the fact that it’s Thanksgiving, it becomes impossible. I don’t know whether the wafting scent of newly baked casseroles or the promise of wine in my future has more to do with my fat sense of contentment, but it doesn’t matter.

The table is set. Glinting early winter light from the open blinds flows through the crystal candle holders and onto the floor creating a puddle of warmth that Bella has found and claimed as her own.

And we’re not all together, which saddens my heart but fills me with anticipation for the next time that we will be. At the wedding.

I miss so many people, but am thankful that I at least have people to miss.